Trapped
by bitter-alisa
Summary: Collection of music-inspired drabbles. A take on their rocky road of a relationship as it proceeds, from both sides. Slash! T for language and suggestive themes. Might be read as a sequel-type-thing to "Prey" or as a separate creation.
1. 1-2

It was supposed to be like those challenges where you put your mp3 on random and write for the first 10 songs that play. It however ended up with me choosing the most appealing songs that would suit the storyline I had in mind, so now it's basically just me working on my writing skills. Also I kinda can't let go of my supposedly finished story just yet, so yeah. But I will be very glad if you enjoy it.

* * *

**1. Left Alone by Fiona Apple**

Adjusting is tough for both of us, I assume, neither of us knowing where our… _thing_ is headed, neither of us knowing what do we want from it. Just a need is no basis for any relationship, if you ask me; this whole thing can be called a relationship with a big stretch.

It takes time to get used that he touches me, kisses me, hugs me whenever he pleases. I somehow don't like being touched with no particular reason. I mean, either we are just about to have sex, or you are a cat, in other cases – please go fuck yourself.

I can't wrap my head around how he can go from wanting to be next to me, _in_ me, almost _be_ me, to running to another city just not to be in the same room with me.

I don't understand him.

He doesn't understand me.

Why are we in this again? If everything we want is to be left alone?  
I don't find any reason to quit him, but everything would be a lot funnier if I knew why.

* * *

**2. Dead leaves and the dirty ground by The White Stripes**

****It's not like it's on and off type of a relationship, not even close. True, we don't stay glued to each other's side at all times. You see other people, I see other people, that sort of thing. But I know that if I ever need someone just not to be alone, you are the first one I call.  
And vice versa. I visit you in that God's forgotten place you call St. Charles, we talk about what worries you, we have sex, we talk some more, then lay silent until you fall asleep. I come when I'm called for, I leave when there's nothing more to say, and so do you and this have become sort of a habit for both of us.  
That one time I decide to put this rule aside and fly all the way from Chicago just to surprise you, you're not alone. I might have warned you, but that's what I get for coming when not needed. You're there fucking someone else, and I stand like an idiot outside your house, with nowhere to stay overnight and I don't even have it in myself anymore to be pissed off, surprised or upset. My heart ceased being broken over and over again after I've learned to accept things as they are. I can't say that you broke me into this shape, because I seemed to bend quite easily myself, and it's not like you're feeling any better about this, or going to change any time soon.  
We're together for a year now. Actually, I'm not sure that we even love each other, but that means that we won't fall _out_ of love either, right?


	2. 3-4

I might not update these all that often, but sure as hell I haven't forgotten about it.  
Until I got **showstopper87**'s review I wasn't even sure anyone cares about them. But here are two more, written on a 30-hour car trip home.

* * *

**3. Looking at you through the glass by Stone Sour**

Here you are, thinking that you know him, but he never ceases to catch you off-guard.  
You try so hard to understand him. Years of watching from up close, like some fascinating bug through a magnifying glass, don't help in the slightest, and you still have no idea what drives him forward, what drives him towards you.  
Here you are, thinking that you knew him, and suddenly he appears to be all you ever needed.  
"It's a pity such a sweet thing as you fell for something as wretched as me", you say sometimes, he frowns and never responds, and you suspect you know why.  
Here you are, thinking that you knew him, and he appears to be an idiot.  
When he takes an undefined break from everything he fought so hard for, the company he invested so much in, without telling you why, you think you know the reason.  
Here you are, thinking that you knew him, and he suddenly appears to be a recovering addict.  
He never did drugs, he never drank or smoked, and that one addiction he had has crashed him after he quit. So when he lies motionless on the floor, you don't ask what is wrong and just stay beside him, because you hope he needs you.  
But here you are again, thinking that you know him, and he suddenly appears to be leaving you.  
As a conclusion you want to repeat the statement about him being an idiot, but you try to avoid utterly subjective judgments.

* * *

**4. Another me by Jim Sturgess **

In all possible universes there is definitely one where he lies in my arms and his hair tickles my face when I lean in and snuggle against it and where he smells so wonderfully it makes me wanna cry – me, of all people. There is that one version of reality where he is _not _talking about leaving me.  
It is such a small difference between that one and the real one, that when he lays as close to me as it is possible and talks about how we screwed it all up, there is no way in hell I'd open my eyes.  
"It would have – _could have _worked out if you were different," he says, and it sounds very blaming.  
"It would have if you were," I object, even though there's really no point in it; if he has decided to break it all, nothing I could do what would convince him otherwise.  
"I guess that's how it looks from your perspective," I can feel him shrugging, distant and indifferent, and that is the Punk I hate. He'd better yell and grumble – that I could deal with. I know how to calm him down if need be, I know what to lie to keep us going, but I'm helpless against his indifference.  
"Have you stopped loving me?"  
"No," he says, plain and simple, and if that was supposed to reassure me or make it better, he had failed miserably.  
"Maybe in another life," He whispers almost painfully and there is my tiny hope that he feels bad about it too.  
"You don't believe in that bullshit,"  
"I don't," He is composed and serious for a split second, and when his palms cup my face, I still can't bring myself to look at him. "But you do."  
"I really wish it all could be different. That you could be different. That _I_ could be different," He tries again.  
I can feel his breath on my skin, and if I were to open my eyes now, I know I'd meet a begging sad hazel stare, and I know that _then _I'd better kill him than see him leave.  
My eyes remain closed. This particular version of Punk in this particular (read _shitty_) version of reality gently closes the door from the other side.  
Somewhere out there, in all the endless possibilities, in all the alternative universes and parallel worlds, another me pulls another him closer and gets another kiss.

* * *

How come I'm just getting more and more depressive with those two...? *sighs* Oh well. Better luck next time.


	3. 5-6

It seems whenever I got stuck with a chapter story, I move to my drabbles. Also I somehow manage to make even fun songs into depressingfics...

* * *

**5. Song 2 by Blur**

You're easy.  
Damn, you're so easy that it's ridiculous; one half-assed smile I throw at you passing by is more than enough to bring you back.  
Weren't you supposed to be the one with trust issues, with aggression attacks and possessiveness and whatnot?  
Wasn't I supposed to be the loyal one, the head-over-heels one, the one who compromised everything just to be with you?  
You said you're fine now, that you've been checked and they said you're as mentally stable as it is likely to get, but I'm not buying it, and it's okay, because you messed me up pretty badly too.  
I grin at just how simple it is to manipulate you. I give you a long stare across the room, and all those people in between us don't seem to be an obstacle at all, when I feel your desire to either kill me on the spot or fuck me into the couch I'm currently sitting on.  
Honesty, I can't blame you.  
I was fighting the same impulses ever since we met, and I find it only fair that you have to taste your own medicine now, though _poison_ seems more of an appropriate term here. I grin again. You'd approve of my choice of words.  
When you attack me on my way to my hotel room, still not entirely sure of your own intentions, I smile even wider, because it was totally called for and totally worth it. Not to mention, completely predictable.  
Damn it, Randy, you're so easy it hurts.

* * *

**6. Love lockdown by Kanye West**

Waiting for him to make up his mind is such a colossal waste of time, that even coma could seem more productive.

That coma you were in before you made up yours.

Now the decision seems so simple and easy and natural, that you don't understand what took you so long, but you give _him_ his sweet time to decide what he wants. Because now it's all his decision.

Far too much went down in your war-like relationship, and when few hours after you texted him there still is no knock on your door, you are afraid that the war is over. That everybody lost. You have talked so much and so well about how your life is a constant battle, that in never actually occurred to you that one day you just might not come out victorious.

It opens with a quiet creek, and it still makes you jump out of the bed. He is here, he looks you in the eyes with his icy gaze you always loved so much, and you look back. Somehow it is so intimate, that you can't hold it for long.

There is nothing either of you could say that hasn't been said before, just as repeating that you love him is not an option to be considered, because he knows it already.

"Don't you ever make mistakes?"  
"I do, but I never regret them."

You are not sure why, but it sounds like a promise.

* * *

Thank you for reviewing the last one, it really means a lot to me! Hope you like those as well :)


	4. 7-9

Somehow I've really gotten into writing those, thanks to you guys! This is why I include a bonus one despite my pattern of having two in each chapter from one of the guy's point of view. Hope you will like those as much as you did the previous.

* * *

**7. Protégé-moi by Placebo**

We never talk about what happened.  
You don't feel like you are obliged to explain me anything, and I don't want to go back into what it meant to be without you.

"Just watch me," you said, "Just watch how I bring the whole world to my feet."  
I don't doubt you even for a second, but it hurts to realize that the world _I_ give you is not enough.

I believed to be doing the right thing when I tried to stop you from something that, I thought, would definitely break you. Something that would cost you – _us_ – everything. I believed to be protecting you, while in fact I was protecting myself.

I wanted to destroy this world, tear it apart bit by bit, this whole world you were so eager to take, just to show you that in the end I am all you would ever need.

In the back of my head I realized, even then, that I'd be left all alone in the ruins, ready for taking, but just as worthless to you as the wreckage around me.

I smile at how little it matters now, when you come back to me, and the world is, in fact, yours, when you carry this company on your shoulders, when you can have everything you ever wanted. When you can be wherever you want with whoever you want, and no one will object or judge you, because now this whole universe of ours is in your pocket.

And yet you are here.

* * *

**8. I write sins, not tragedies by Panic at the Disco**

She is so pretty, in her white dress and converse shoes, so innocent and smiley, that it almost tricks everyone for a second into forgetting what a whore she is.  
Or maybe it's just your opinion, because you still can't forget and forgive that she had him before you, you can never get the image of her underneath him out of your mind - her lips on his, her lean legs wrapped around his waist, and you can't forget how she screwed him over either.  
Or maybe it is because your own marriage didn't work out and you don't have the balls to try again, and seeing her joke around like that really pisses you off.

"Pity," says Punk beside you, "She should've gone for it," and you can't tell if he is actually serious.

"What? I think everyone should have a chance to be miserable together, if they want to," he smiles and kisses you, full mouth, but one word echoes in your head even when his tongue runs along yours.

_Miserable._

It doesn't surprise you, you've always known what he thinks of a commitment this serious, but the way he says it now makes it absolutely clear that he isn't going to make an exception even for you.

You dive into the kiss, grateful that at least you get that much, and shove that damned ring deeper in your pocket.

You're not gonna be needing it any time soon.

* * *

**9. You don't know what love is by White Stripes**

The way you both stopped running away from each other makes you so happy that you don't even question neither his, nor your own motives anymore.

What of it if he just finds it convenient now to stay with you because he is so used to you that it seems a big bother to look for someone else?  
What of it if he doesn't leave you just because he can't handle you being broken _again_ because of him?  
What of it if _you _keep him by your side to compensate all those times you've hurt him?  
What of it if you are too selfish to let him go again?  
He doesn't seem to object for the time being, and you are actually ready to set him free the moment your love is not what makes him happy.

You notice that he woke up too when he peeks from under the blanket, sighs and snuggles against your shoulder, so sweet and un-Punk-like, that all the brooding immediately melts in his smile when he looks at you.

"Why is it always that warming up under covers takes forever and freezing your ass off when you get out of bed is so immediate?"

He hates getting up. You have learned it over the time, just as you have learned that as long as he's happy, you are happy too.

* * *

I hope these are less depressing, I have really tried to make them happier and yet still keep them naturally flowing.


	5. 10-12

Look who's on the roll today :D Plus to those, I might actually get done with a one-shot I'm working on, and later on you can check on that one too :)

**showstopper87**: keep those going, you say? No problem ;) eleven is for you, because I felt that you really got the idea of having two most important things in one's life - a thing you enjoy doing and a person you love.

**MistyKnight**: I am so very happy you are enjoying those, and I figured you'd like some more happy stuff so twelve is kind of dedicated to you :)

* * *

**10. Fake it by Seether**

You hate it when I watch those old shows I keep on DVDs, countless and unending, when I look at you on the screen, not at you right behind me. You storm out of the room, smashing the door, you hate it when I look at what you used to be.

Back when _Randy Orton _meant something.

You hate a lot of things about me, and it's hilarious how most of them are things you're guilty of yourself.

You don't exactly want to do this any longer, you've lost your spark, but you keep faking it along the way in a hope I wouldn't notice, because you don't want to disappoint me.

In the back of my head I know that I'm gonna put up with everything as long as you haven't lost it completely, as long as there is something burning in you for _me_, and I briefly wonder when did I become a hypocrite too.

* * *

**11. What you want by Evanescence**

"Get your shit together," you want to tell him, you want to scream that in his face, because you can't take it anymore, how miserable he has become, how nothing gives him joy except you, you want to shake him and say that you are _not_ everything.

He would disagree with you, you know it, you have seen it in his eyes, in his intentions and among his things you have _accidentally _stumbled upon– yes, you are absolutely certain that you are his world now, but you're not ready to be. You don't even want to, because it's such a responsibility, to be everything for someone, isn't it?

Sometimes you wonder how _he_ deals with that. How he goes on with his daily life knowing that he is everything to _you_.

When he gets his shot on the title, you cannot be more glad, even though it meant him defeating you. You had your glory, now you want him to have his, and the world domination you could definitely share.

For the split second when he climbs up that ladder and take his chance at having it all, there is that look on his face, the absolute happiness that he didn't even knew he wanted until he got it, and this is the Randy you fell for.

Lying there, looking at his triumph, you find it very funny how defeat and hope taste like mixed up together.

* * *

**12. If I didn't have you by Tim Minchin **

Objectively speaking, you could name at least ten people whom you'd be far better with than with him. You also know that if he would be capable of applying some sort of logical reasoning behind his thinking, he could probably name even more.

There's a chance that you would have ended up with someone more fitting, someone better, smarter, prettier or just simply entirely different. But you're not up for taking chances.

If you would still be doing those come-to-jesus talks and trying sorting out your feelings and relationship, he would say that you were meant, destined for each other. You don't believe in that bullshit. What you believe in is that you both had a hand into _making _each other, and this is why it is perfect now.

When you say "yes" to the question he didn't actually voiced out loud because he knows you too well, he freaks out and you are a little flattered that you can still surprise him after all this time.

And you are willing to keep it up.

* * *

Ok, to be completely honest, there might be a hiatus from now on, because I'm running out of songs to inspire me and the ideas for this pairing.  
However, if you have suggestions I'd be more than happy to oblige. Actually, I really would like a request, which I'm pretty sure I said before, so if you have one, I'll surely do my best!  
And so far, thank you for reading and reviewing. I hope you have enjoyed reading themjust as much as I enjoyed writing :)


	6. 13-15

Yay, drabbles are back! Although I thought there wasn't anything else to say on their relationship, I've got somewhat inspired. Hope you'll enjoy.

* * *

**13. Low five by Sneaker Pimps **

I hate to feel like I'm holding him back, because if anything, I've only pushed him forward, to achieve all he has now, to be on top of the world as he is, as he deserves, as he always wanted.

Why is it never enough to enjoy what you have?

Why he always wants something more from me, things I'm incapable of giving, probably because I never had it myself?

Family.

The very idea of it makes me shudder, when he talks about retiring and getting Alanna live with us and growing _old _together. I understand it is inevitable, that I'm willingly stuck with him for the rest of my life, trapped and cornered, and that I did all that to myself, but sometimes it's just too much.

I've come so far from the bottom I have started it all from, I have done so much and achieved everything I wanted, that sometimes it feels like I could do anything now. Go places. Make this world mine. Make people I love happy.

I'm not ready to.

This is what kills me the most.

* * *

**14. Sleep, Sugar by Poets of the Fall**

Kids are horrible. You would know, you had a chance to experience it firsthand, not merely signing the posters and toys for those little dumb fucks, but actually dealing with one for whole two hours. Apparently, one four-year-old girl is capable of turning the life of a grown man into a complete hell within two hours, and now you are being forced to endure this for an entire weekend.

If one kid times two hours equal one hell, then the same kid times almost three days would mean roughly thirty hells to suffer through.

You generally don't like math, but his time you just have to make sure what you will have to deal with.

Thirty hells.

You fail to understand how he manages to cope with it, how he doesn't find that annoying even in the slightest, how he actually enjoys spending time with his daughter. Loving kids has always been beyond you, it fascinates you see him read to her, play dolls with her, kiss away her tears and bruised knees, with the tenderness he reserves only for you.

You're not jealous, you keep telling yourself, like, not at all. Not even a little bit.

"I want you in her life too," he says, and it probably is flattering, considering that there are very few people he allows in her life.

You're not sure whether you are happy about it or scared shitless.

It so happens that you are the one to be bringing her to him, to Chicago, where you both made your own home, for a weekend that he managed to beg out of Sam. Alanna is tired and whiny when you board the flight, you are annoyed and she whines even more, you argue and mentally sneer at yourself – how very mature of you to argue with a tired four-year-old.

With a sigh you pull her in your lap, stoke her hair and watch her doze out as you mumble some sort of a lullaby. Something twirls in your heart when you look at her, sleeping and innocent, all the whines and screams gone, and there is a little something that reminds you of him. The fact that she is a part of him, of his life, just like you are, makes you want to give it all a try.

When only a few hours after you carry her to the taxi and she calls you "daddy" in her sleep, you are still very conflicted about the situation, but the quantity of hells she might cause you has definitely reduced.

* * *

**15. Superhero by Tim McMorris**

No matter what people say, you are a good guy. Maybe only to a small carefully selected circle of people, but you are; you do your good deeds to help and protect those you hold dear, selfish or selfless, you try your best to be good.

"You could talk about this forever, couldn't you?" He asks, slightly annoyed, interrupting your yet another rant about how they shouldn't have chosen Ben Affleck to play Batman. "As if those hideous tweets of yours wouldn't be enough."

You know that he in fact in not pissed at all; you have your interests, he has his, and neither of you are forcing another to give them up, it's just sometimes you are like an old married couple, rambling just for the sake of rambling.

"You might get along after all, you know," He changes the subject, and you wince. "She likes Batman too."

It is not a choice, you realize, it has never been; you _have_ to do what's right, what's good, what makes him happy.

"She's four, for jeebus' sake," you fake a frown. "But it is my duty to educate the youth about the good things in world. Do you think she'd like to come to comicon with me next time?"

You see his smile brighten, and you feel like you've just saved the world, that tiny world you share.

You feel like a superhero.

* * *

Now wasn't that cute? So far out of my usual writing mood, that i don't even know how to react to this. Anyhow. Hope you liked it despite the lack of angsty sadness.


End file.
